


Unwrapping

by rhye



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:36:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhye/pseuds/rhye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since getting out of Azkaban, Sirius has been moody and distant. Remus finally discovers the reason... and discovers something about his own desires in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwrapping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beililee (sapphoatsunset)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphoatsunset/gifts).



> Warning: Contains diaper/incontinence fetishism, fetishizing a physical disability, watersports (specifically from the smell of urine, no active urination), dirty talk, blow job, hurt-comfort.
> 
> For beililee's Prompt #96 "Diaper Play" at hp_kinkfest. Also posted there. Many thanks to my beta-reader notearchiver!

The argument had reached a fever pitch when Sirius finally snapped. He sat up sharply, vacated his seat, and rushed from the room. Molly, still expounding Sirius’ many character flaws, seemed especially frustrated by this. She shouted after him, and for a moment Remus half expected Molly to send Sirius to bed without supper. He was tired of the two of them arguing. Neither was without fault, but sometimes Molly forgot that Sirius was not Percy Weasley, and Sirius acted as though Molly was in league with Pettigrew to put him back in Azkaban. Sighing, Remus pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Well?” Molly asked him pointedly.

“Molly dear,” Arthur tried to interrupt, “It’s not Remus’s place to control Sirius. If he can’t be made to listen to reason, it’s not Remus’s fault.” Arthur, though, sounded unconvinced.

Worse yet, Remus himself was unconvinced. He wasn’t sure that Molly’s requests were all that unreasonable, and he, likewise, was not sure that it _shouldn’t_ somehow be his place to-- certainly not _control_ Sirius-- but perhaps counsel him?

Remus pushed back his chair. “I’ll go speak with him.”

Molly nodded her appreciation, but Arthur’s eyes echoed Remus’s own weariness. Couldn’t they all just go to bed and be done with this?

*****

Remus found Sirius in the garden. His robes hung loose on his emaciated frame. Remus had been doing his best to get Sirius to eat, but Sirius refused most food. Depression, Remus thought. He’d danced with that ghoul enough to know the sound of its movements through the life of another. How thin had he himself been before he’d taken the job at Hogwarts?

Sirius was staring up at the stars, and Remus knew he was supposed to direct Sirius back inside. This was not safe; Dementors could easily find Sirius in the open like this.

How, though, could Remus say such a thing? How could he insist to a man who had been a prisoner for twelve years that returning to prison for just a little while was the safest option? Of course Sirius was outside.

“I’d like to be alone,” Sirius said without turning.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asked. He and Sirius hadn’t spoken much but they’d been around each other nearly constantly. No one had said the words to Remus, but they occurred to him from time to time: suicide watch. Was that why he was always assigned within easy reach of Sirius? Was he supposed to see it coming, if come it did? For his part, he did not think that Sirius was suicidal. Not with Harry around, not as long as Harry needed a father-figure, a friend.

“Nothing.” Sirius turned to face Remus and a genuine smile seemed to be playing at the corners of his lips. “Just leave, please.”

Remus, unable to come up with a response, did as Sirius requested.

*****

Sometime that night, Remus awoke with an aching head. His mouth was sandpaper-dry. Arising, he wondered whether he should give up on sleep, but he was simply too overtired not to at least _try_ to sleep. He picked up the empty cup on the bedside table and stepped into the hallway, deciding that he probably just needed a drink of water.

Remus could see a warm glow spilling out of the open door of the bathroom down the hall. Even though a light came from within, the door was clearly open. Later, when Remus would run back over this night in his head, he would assert time and time again that he was _sure_ the bathroom door had not been shut. If it _had_ been shut, he would have knocked. It was the middle of the night and the entire house was quiet. Remus hadn’t spared much thought for the light; he assumed that someone had left the brazier lit and nothing more. After all, it was a cold winter night and Grimmauld Place was old and draughty.

Thus, Remus approached the bathroom believing it to be empty. He pulled the door open the rest of the way.

There was a moment of stillness as he and Sirius regarded each other. Recognition gradually displaced nighttime fogginess in two sets of expressions. Then, curse words spilled from Sirius’s mouth and Remus found the door slammed in his face. The curses continued from the other side of the door.

“Sirius?” Remus knocked gently. “Are you quite alright?”

“Bugger off.”

Remus actually did turn to leave, but that was also about the time that what he had seen registered with his brain. He turned back and tapped lightly at the door. “Sirius?”

“I _said--_ ”

“Yes, I know. You’re always telling me to leave you alone.”

“And now you know why.”

Remus paused and pursed his lips, a bit angry at Sirius’s insolence. “No,” he answered, “I don’t.”

“I’m _broken_ , Moony.”

And so Sirius might be, but what Remus had seen was not _so_ embarrasing, certainly not worth alienating best friends over. “You’re not _broken_ , Sirius. Don’t be so melodramatic. We’re getting older. You have a continence issue.”

The door flew open at that. “I’m not getting older!”

Remus raised an eyebrow.

“I’m not! It’s _Azkaban_ , Moony.” Sirius’s expression twisted in disgust when he said the name. “Nothing works quite right since being there. I thought...” he lowered his voice, “I thought that when I got out, got better, everything else would as well. But it hasn’t... Don’t you understand? It hasn’t and it _never will_.”

The expression on Sirius’s face-- one of embarrassment and despair-- touched Remus deeply. He stepped into the warm bathroom and shut the door behind him. Sirius tried to protest, but Remus placed a hand over his mouth to stop anything that might have been said.

“Once,” Remus started, “A friend of mine told me that physical weakness makes you emotionally stronger.” Remus smiled wryly. “Of course, I wondered how he could know such a thing considering he hadn’t experienced so much as a hangnail. But to a young werewolf, they were words of infinite wisdom.”

Remus moved his hand away from Sirius’s mouth. Sirius did not speak for a long while, and then he finally answered, “It was bullshit. I was bullshitting you. What did I know about weakness?”

“What did you know indeed?”

“But Remus, this is different--”

Remus shook his head. “It’s not. Let me see.”

“What?”

“Let’s have those robes off. I’d like to see what you’re using.”

Sirius turned bright red. “You can’t think I’d ever--”

“You never listen to yourself, do you? In third year you told me that I was embarrassed of my scars because I thought people would judge me for them. You asked me to strip to my pants and told me you didn’t see anything wrong at all. Now, off with the robes.”

Sirius stared for a moment, then sighed. “Someday, remind me to travel back in time and beat the shit out of myself.” He did not strip out of his robes.

“It’s not easy being disabled, Sirius. But that’s what you are. I know what it’s like to hide and to be afraid and embarrassed and frustrated and to feel less than whole, but I don’t see you that way. I don’t see anything wrong at all.” Remus swept a hand back through Sirius’ matted hair. “Is the incontinence the reason you’ve been avoiding me?”

Sirius shrugged. “Hard to put into words really.”

“Well, no more avoiding. Now, off with the robes.”

Slowly, as though each movement was painful, Sirius pulled up his robes, dropping them into a pile next to him on the floor. Soon he was standing in nothing but what seemed to be a strip of cotton cloth that had been wrapped around him many times. The cloth was tattered and needed mending badly, and the wrapping was poorly done. The crotch was urine-stained.

“Who did this for you?” Remus asked, stepping closer and putting his hands on Sirius’s waist to spin Sirius.

“Kreacher,” Sirius muttered. “I think he intentionally finds the worst cloth. It itches and chafes. He never does it very well...”

“He’s not doing it again,” Remus asserted. “From now on, let me do this.”

“I can’t--”

“And I can’t let you walk around in this. I’ll find something better. And I’ll do it up properly. Sirius, you should have asked before.”

“I couldn’t, Moony.”

“You could have, and you should have.” Slowly, and with fingers that he hated to admit shook just a tad, Remus turned Sirius away from himself and reached around Sirius to undo the sticking charm on the fabric. He unwound it, arms reaching around Sirius’ too-thin frame in the pantomime of a hug while Sirius faced resolutely away from him. Finally, the last tatters of the cloth fell away. Sirius, naked, shivered, and Remus remembered then that the door was open. He pulled his wand from a robe pocket; in war time it did not do to even wander your own home without a wand. A swish of his wand closed and locked the bathroom door. A flick, “ _Scourgify!_ ”, and the cloth was once again clean. “ _Reparo!_ ,” Remus added.

“You think I haven’t tried that?” Sirius hissed over his shoulder.

Remus shrugged. “You need a new one. I’ll find something, but this will get you to morning.” Then Remus slowly wound the cloth back around Sirius. He did not know what he was doing precisely, but his fingers were guided instead by a shared memory-- the memory of Sirius tying countless bandages on countless full moons. Strips of cloth likewise in need of replacing, likewise covering a secret, Sirius a boy with no training and no idea of how to properly bind a wound but with willing hands and a gentle heart. Now it was Remus’s turn, and that warmed him immensely. When he had done the final sticking charm, his hands wrapped themselves around Sirius of their own accord. Sirius stiffened.

“Sirius, do you think we can ever be like we were?”

“Moony--” Sirius started. “I told you, I don’t _work_ any more.”

“I’m not asking you for sex, Sirius. I’m asking you for trust. Though you always did conflate the two.”

Sirius blew out a rough, nervous laugh and turned around. “Go back to bed,” he ordered Remus.

“On one condition,” Remus asserted. “You seek me out first thing after waking so I can help you again.”

Sirius, his expression unreadable, asked, “And if I don’t?” Remus could not be sure whether he was teasing or testing.

“Then I will know you don’t trust me.”

“Remus,” Sirius inhaled deeply before continuing, “I have trusted you completely since the moment I realized what Peter was. I had little to get me through Azkaban but my duty to Harry and my desire to let you know that I trust you, that I should have always trusted you.”

“Actions speak louder than words,” Remus answered. He opened the door and let himself out of the loo.

*****

Remus was awoken by a knock at his door. He blinked groggily and tried to find is pocket watch. Just as his fingers brushed it, it escaped from his grasp and skittered across the floor. Swallowing a curse, Remus abandoned it and went instead to the door. He opened it to find a rather nervous-looking Sirius standing outside.

“What time’s it?” Remus asked.

“Quarter of seven. Still dark. Sorry, Moony.”

“Not at all. Come in. I’m glad you came.”

Sirius stood uncertainly in the darkness while Remus lit candles along the wall. Sirius went to pull his robes off, but Remus stopped him, settling his hands on Sirius’ arms. “Let me.”

Sirius shrugged, seemingly indifferent, but Remus was not fooled. He leaned in, carefully pulling Sirius’s robes up to slip his hands underneath. Remus’s hands were warm, but Sirius nevertheless shivered at his touch, eyes fluttering closed. How long had it been since anyone had touched Sirius in a meaningful way?

“Tell me this is alright,” Remus whispered, his breath shifting tendrils of Sirius’s mussed hair. “This could change our friendship.” To emphasize his words, he slipped his hands around Sirius’s back, still under the robes, and pulled Sirius against himself.

“Oh Merlin, yes,” Sirius gasped.

In one movement, Remus pulled Sirius’s robes the rest of the way off. His fingers once again began unravelling the cloth that was acting as Sirius’s diaper, only this time he brought the urine-stained crotch to his nose and smelled it, his eyes locked on Sirius’s, before casting a _Scourgify_ on the cloth. Sirius’s eyes were wide, and suddenly Remus felt unsure and self-conscious.

“Remus,” Sirius whispered, as if they might be overheard. “Why are you doing this? Is this pity? Why are you--”

“Hush,” Remus answered. “No, it’s not pity. It’s just--” Remus shrugged and gestured towards Sirius’s half-hard cock. “It’s just what it is. It doesn’t have to have a reason. It doesn’t have to be more unless you want it to be.”

“I don’t know what I want,” Sirius sighed, his voice holding a sadness far beyond anything Remus had heard in it before.

“You don’t have to know. Just stop me if I do something you _don’t_ want.” Remus, still fully clothed in his pyjamas, pulled Sirius towards him and wrapped his arms around him. He wanted to kiss Sirius but didn’t dare just now. Sirius was trembling under his hands, and this scared Remus as well. Instead, Remus sunk to his knees and guided Sirius’s cock towards his mouth.

“Remus...” Sirius said Remus’s name like a gentle lullaby. Remus, gripping the back of Sirius’s thighs, felt Sirius’s muscles relax as moved his tongue along the shaft in front of him. Hadn’t Sirius said something about this not working as well? It certainly seemed to be working perfectly to him. He took Sirius’s cock deeper into his mouth, feeling is harden under his attentions. Sirius smelled of urine as well, and the scent woke Remus’s long-latent desires. For many years he had been content with loneliness, but there were some things a person could not do alone.

Remus’s lack of practice quickly showed, though; Sirius gasped as teeth scraped sensitive skin. Remus pulled back. “I’m sorry. I’ve not done this in a while.”

“Who--” Sirius started, but then shook his head. “Don’t tell me. Just keep going. For the love of Merlin, keep going.”

Remus laughed and Sirius gasped in response. Remus then tried a series of sounds and movements, trying to recall each that made Sirius hiss in pain and each that made him sway with pleasure. He was counting on being able to repeat this. At last, Sirius came, wrenching Remus’s hair painfully and grunting deep in his throat. Remus tried to swallow, but found himself caught off guard and overwhelmed. He gagged and coughed, instinct causing him to push Sirius away. “I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized.

“No, I am,” Sirius whispered between great gasps for breath. “That hasn’t-- I haven’t-- It’s been thirteen years, Moony. I should have warned you but I-- I didn’t even know I _could_.” Sirius’s eyes brimmed with tears, and Remus pulled him silently towards his own bed, stopping to grab Sirius’s undergarment.

They curled into the warm covers. Remus pulled Sirius close until his own head was on Sirius’s chest, Sirius’s diaper cradled in his arms. He felt he was surrounded by Sirius on all sides. “This is something I’ve wanted for quite a long time,” he confessed. “I never envisioned this,” he raised his hand to indicate the unwrapped nappy, “as a part of it, but I’m not sorry it is. It’s... intimate. You have no control?”

“None,” Sirius answered. Remus could feel the tension in Sirius’s voice and muscles.

“So... you could be talking to Harry or Snape or even Dumbledore, and...”

“It’s happened.”

“You could be fighting a battle for your life--”

“That has _definitely_ happened.”

“Ah,” Remus smiled to himself, “The Shrieking Shack?”

“Just the part where I ran towards a fully grown werewolf.”

Remus’s smile faded. He wanted to apologize, but he swallowed the impulse. He had already apologized, and Sirius had already rejected his apology on the grounds that he had not been in his right mind.

Remus instead turned their conversation away from the past. The rising sun was casting its first white rays through the heavy curtains. Remus rolled over to look at Sirius. He was still hard and he wanted relief. “Let me put this back on you?” He held up the strip of cotton cloth again. “I will get you a better one, but until then, I want to be the one to take care of you.”

Sirius raised a hand permissively. “That is why I came here this morning.” He seemed happier, more relaxed. Remus could not imagine thirteen years without an orgasm. He could not imagine thirteen more minutes.

He quickly threw all the blankets aside so they would not interfere and then positioned himself between Sirius’s legs. He spread those too-thin but still lovely legs and hitched Sirius’s heels up onto his shoulders, allowing Sirius’s hips to come off the bed completely so Remus could wrap the cloth without impediment. He did not immediately begin, though. Instead, he took his own erection in hand and stroked himself as he admired Sirius’ now-flaccid cock. Sirius was watching him with lidded eyes, pupils wide with lust.

Remus felt himself close to orgasm, and so he quickly wrapped the nappy around Sirius. He was surprised that his fingers could move so smoothly with his heart hammering and his legs shaking, but he was done in moments. Watching Sirius’s cloth-wrapped crotch in front of him, Remus found it impossible to articulate his desires. “Can I-- Let me-- I need to--”

“You dirty bastard, do whatever you like,” Sirius said. His words sounded callous, but his eyes were watching Remus hungrily, seeming to absorb every aspect of the show going on before him. His mouth was curved in a playful smile that Remus hadn’t seen in too long.

Remus leaned forward and worked his cock in between several of the tightly-wound bands of Sirius’s nappy and began moving, and as he did so, Sirius began speaking. “Do you like fucking my nappy? Do you like fucking where I piss myself, Remus?”

Remus was beyond answer. He groaned deep in his throat and moved faster.

“Do you want me to piss, so you can fuck that?”

Remus leaned in, leveraging himself again Sirius’s body. He moved faster, loving the friction of the cotton on his cock.

“You can fuck my shit, too. When I shit in my pants, you want to fuck that?”

Remus came with an undignified howl, spilling into Sirius’s wrap. He paused for a moment, leaning over Sirius, panting. Then he reached for his wand and raised it to clean the nappy.

Sirius stopped him with a firm hand on his wrist. “Don’t you dare. I’d like to keep that.”

Remus paused to look at Sirius for a moment, trying to decide if Sirius was joking, but in the end decided that it was no joke. “Sirius,” he whispered. “How can I... How can this be real?”

Sirius grinned widely at that. “Come on, grab those blankets you kicked off. If we get to sleep now we can have a lie in before the meeting with Dumbledore.”

Remus, boneless to his core and warm to the bottom of his person, was helpless to obey.

*****  
They sat around the table, the food left untouched. Molly had worked quite hard setting out the lunch spread in advance of the Order Meeting. Unless Ron Weasley was hungry enough for everyone (a possibility!), the entire thing was going to end up being fed to Buckbeak.

The news at today’s Order meeting was sobering indeed: Emmeline Vance had been murdered by Death Eaters. Sirius was quick to accuse Severus, and Dumbledore was likewise quick to defend Severus. Harry came to Sirius’s defense, which caused Molly to accuse Sirius of being a bad influence on Harry once again, even while she was still swiping at the tear tracks that the news of Emmeline’s death had left on her face. Arthur was trying to calm Molly as she became even more worked up. Dung admitted that he’d heard from a person in Knockturn Alley that it _had_ been Severus who had given Emmeline’s location away, causing Severus to turn Dung’s firewhiskey into actual fire. Dung threw the burning flask across the table, where it nearly hit Kingsley in the forehead.

Dumbledore stood and spoke hardly above a whisper: “I’m going to put on tea. Would anyone else care for some?”

Deadly silence fell around the table.

“I’m not going to sit at the table with _him_ ,” Sirius snapped. He stood, pounded his fists on the table for emphasis, and stormed from the room.

This time, Remus knew exactly where to find him. He was, as expected, in the back garden. Last time he had met Sirius under these circumstances he had tried to calm him. This time, though, Remus skipped the soothing words. He could _smell_ the urine on Sirius, and his cock twitched to life. It was horrible timing, he knew, but he was thinking of Sirius’s urine mingling with his own dried come.

“Do you think it was Snape?” Sirius asked.

“Yes,” Remus lied. Fifteen years ago, perhaps, he might not have lied. He might have argued and risked coldness between himself and Sirius, risked distrust. But distrust had gotten Sirius into Azkaban, and their friends were dying around them. He did not want to die estranged from the man he had always loved. “Yes. Now come upstairs.”


End file.
